


dear koutarou,

by cityscaped (touchofgold)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst??, F/M, Hurt, Inside, M/M, My attempt at angst, Wedding, a 5k regret fic, i promise you there's no death, lots of flashbacks, no one dies, okay maybe one of them dies, they die inside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 08:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7041463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchofgold/pseuds/cityscaped
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>that au where one of them gets married; and a series of flashbacks for the other</p>
            </blockquote>





	dear koutarou,

**Author's Note:**

> after reading a few bokuaka fics, i decided to attempt to write one 
> 
> companion playlist: http://8tracks.com/gallifrayed/dear-koutarou
> 
> cover art by: octorina.tumblr.com

 

The soft morning sun sent scatters of rays into the tiny apartment, casting gold shadows on the objects stacked precariously on top of each other. Thin books stacked on top of each other cluttered the coffee table that was completed with splashes of tea and coffee. The monotonous blaring of the alarm echoed in the walls of the bedroom, its inhabitant already awaken long before the alarm had gone off. A delicate hand slammed it down, instantly cutting off its blaring.

 

Carefully dragging his feet to his living room, he was surprised by the pile of letters that sat on the floor. ‘Probably bills.’ he thought to himself, picking up the letters, each encased within a crisp white envelope. However, one was unlike the others, he thought. Amongst the mundane white letters lay one with black and gold outlining. His name had been carefully written in the center with a shimmery gold pen.

 

   Curiosity overtook him as he grabbed a letter opener that had been placed conveniently next to his door and slides the letter open. A delicate floral scent filled his nostrils upon opening the letter. He shook out the contents, which was a simple cream card with careful penmanship.

 

**together with their parents**

**AKIRA HAYASHI**

**&**

**BOKUTO KOUTAROU**

**request for your company,**

**AKAASHI KEIJI**

**as they celebrate their marriage**

 

**sunday, the twenty-sixth of june**

**twenty sixteen**

**at eleven o’clock in the morning**

**❀**

**dinner and reception to follow**

 

   “ _Fuck_.”

 

   Clenching the card tightly in his hands, Akaashi dropped to his knees, reading the contents of the card over and over again until his vision blurred. “ _It can’t be_ .” he muttered to himself, as if reading the card over and over would change its contents. But it didn’t. Hot tears trickled down the side of his face, splashing on the card and smudging the ink on his name that had been scrupulously written. “ _It can’t be_ ,” he repeated to himself over and over again, hoping that it will convince him that this was all just a bad dream.

 

   He pinched himself. Twice. Thrice. Until part of his arm was red and sore. This wasn’t a dream. He rubbed his eyes that were not only crusted with sleep but stains from his tears. A walk would resolve the way he was feeling, he thought to himself. Splashing his face with cold water, he flinches at its iciness, but drys away the droplets that clung to his face. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He still looked like the same person from high school. Nothing much has changed, except for the eyebags that grew prominent with age and the faint five o’clock shadow that he had grew accustomed to with age. His hair, however, was a mess. His curls stuck up at awkward angles in all directions as he ran his hand through them to smoothen them out.

 

   Opening his minimalist closet, he was suddenly greeted by the obnoxious white with gold and black trim Fukurodani jacket, reminding him of his volleyball days in high school. It had been years since the two of them left high school, and yet Akaashi still kept his jacket, for memories and all that had happened in between. Akaashi fingered the jacket’s material, sniffing it slightly, the jacket still smelling the way he did in high school - washing detergent and faint peppermint. Thoughts of him and Bokuto playing in official matches were suddenly triggered by the even fainter smell of Salompas. Akaashi gripped the ends of the jacket tightly and pushed it into the corner of his closet, hoping to shut out as many memories as possible at a painful time like this.

 

   He changed into a set of presentable, yet casual clothes and left the apartment immediately, still clutching the invitation in his hands. Living in the suburbs of Tokyo, he was particularly thankful for the decision instead of moving into the bustling hub of the city, because, on a day like this, there would be fewer people staring at him. He allowed his legs to take him wherever they wanted, switching off his conscious mind to think about the invitation. He couldn’t imagine Bokuto with another person. How he would kiss them. How he would love them.

 

   And he found himself in the hills behind their high school, Fukurodani Academy. It had received plenty of renovations over the past few years, the school looking sharper than ever. Occasionally, he and Bokuto would return to coach the younger high school volleyball players - but it had been years since they’ve stopped doing that - ever since Bokuto met that woman. The hills behind their school had always been a vast and empty land, completed with a running river if one ventured further and a forest. As the gym was always separated from the school, he snuck around the corner to see a group of Fukurodani students practicing.

 

   Bittersweet memories came rushing back, his own mind taunting him of the times he had spent with Bokuto. He shut his eyes tightly, walking away from the practice as he knew he was hurting himself by watching them play. He would be too painfully reminded of the many times he had set to Bokuto, and how that ace almost never missed a single spike. He would be achingly reminded of one of  Bokuto’s weakness, pinpointing it within an instant. He would also be reminded of Bokuto’s mood swings - and how often they happened. As he walked further from the gym, his unfocused mind almost rammed him into a tree.

 

   It was an old camphor tree, that was still lush and evergreen. Albeit being just a tree, an old memory suddenly triggered within Akaashi’s mind. It was a time where they had decided to practice outside of the gym - while it was undergoing minor renovations during the weekend. It was such a perfect weather, they simply couldn’t resist practicing outside. However, it was at that time where Bokuto was particularly sloppy with his receives, as he was too busy focusing on his spikes to concentrate on his receives. His receives, in Akaashi’s opinion, were pretty shit on that day as most of them went off course and in some other direction.

 

   _“Concentrate.” Akaashi reprimanded the older student, before apologising quickly as he had spoken rather informally to his senior. Bokuto scoffed and shrugged it off._

 

_“I am.” he scrunched his nose. Akaashi was a master at hiding his emotions, which often came in handy when Bokuro did things like scrunching his nose. “One more.” he requested and Akaashi sighed, praying that this time Bokuto would receive it properly and it would make the two of them a whole lot happier and reduce the chances of Bokuto going into his emo mode. Akaashi swung his arm and hit the ball as gently as possible as he didn’t want another fiasco of running after the ball and hoping it doesn’t fall into the damn drain._

 

_Yet again, Bokuto was unable to receive properly and the ball went flying into a camphor tree. It sat snugly in between branches and taunted the two boys. Bokuto and Akaashi both stared up at the volleyball that was now stuck. “Eh… Akaashi?”_

 

_“Bokuto-san.” he responded in a slightly exasperated tone._

 

_“How are we going to get the ball down?”_

 

_The two sat in the shade of the camphor tree as they thought about the possible solutions. As the gym was undergoing renovation and the club room was at the gym, most of the brooms and mops were locked up. The school itself was locked as well because it was the holidays. Suddenly, Bokuto came up with a plausible idea._

 

_“One of us has to go on the other’s back and reach for the ball. We can’t climb this tree, it’s impossible and I think with our heights, one of us can reach it. So what do you say Akaashi?” Bokuto suggested._

 

_Akaashi shook his head firmly at the suggestion. “There is only one possible outcome from that situation: the two of us injured.”_

 

_“Come on Akaashi!” Bokuto prompted. “Since I’m stronger, I’ll lift you up.”_

 

_“Wait what?” Akaashi began but he barely had enough time to respond when his senior bent down and nudged him to climb onto his back. Akaashi could feel his heart pounding erratically in his chest, threatening to burst his rib cage open as he daintily climbed onto Bokuto’s back. He winced slightly as Bokuto stood up, gripping his thighs and he could feel a warm rush in his cheeks. “To the left.” he requested and Bokuto carefully sidestepped to the left._

 

_“Damn Akaashi, you’re actually kind of heavy,” Bokuto confessed._

 

_“Sorry.” Akaashi apologised quickly, reaching for the ball. He quickly knocked it down with his hands and out of excitement, Bokuto almost released the grip on his thighs. “BOKUTO-SAN.” Akaashi’s voice crackled with fear._

 

_“Sorry Akaashi!” Bokuto quickly grabbed his thighs and lowered his underclassman onto the ground._

 

_Panting slightly, Akaashi shook his head. His heart was still beating fast, not because of the almost fall, but at the close contact he had with the ace. He hoped that Bokuto doesn’t notice the extreme flush on his cheeks and hoped that he could cover up the colour with some excuse. His lips quickly went back to their poker face as he stared hard at Bokuto. “Let’s never do that again.”_

 

_“Agreed.”_

 

Akaashi could still remember the lingering touch on his thighs, a chill running up his spine as he thought about how hard Bokuto gripped- no. He should not be thinking about the past. He forced himself into a sprint, to get the hell away from a place where too many painful memories had been made. He had almost lost his footing and fell face forward, using his palms to stop his fall. His face made an impact with the grass, the dewy petrichor reminding him of the time where his idiot of a captain fell on top of him. Akaashi slammed his palm against the grass, gripping them tightly in his palm. “ _Stop remembering_.” he reminded himself, ripping out patches of the grass, spilling dirt onto his jeans.

 

He was usually a composed man, he never lost his cool. But all it took was one fucking card to reduce him to nothing. He balled his fists up to stop the tears from escaping. He couldn’t cry in public just like that, people would think he’s insane. The ever so present smell of petrichor didn’t do much but instead contribute to another suppressed memory that Akaashi tried very hard to ignore. It had always been the memories where he and Bokuto shared any forms of contact did Akaashi try to forget.

 

It was during their first training camp with Karasuno when it happened. Akaashi had a premonition that something of sorts would happen on that day, a tingling feeling constantly keeping him on the edge. He was more tense that day as well, as pointed out by his fellow teammates but he brushed it off as nervous energy. All went well until Fukurodani had their last match with Nekoma and Nekoma won. It so happens that the penalty for losing had changed to sprints up the hill behind the gym.

 

_“Come on Akaashi, let’s race up the hill,” Bokuto suggested, and Akaashi knew something would usually go wrong when Bokuto suggests something. However, as he didn’t want Bokuto to go into his dejected mood, he had gladly agreed to his captain’s whims. As they raced up the hill, Akaashi began to feel a heaving sensation in his chest. Bokuto was taking the race a little too seriously and within a few minutes, he was at the top and gloating about his win. “HEY HEY HEY I am the best after all!” he cheered._

 

_Akaashi sighed as he reached the top but didn’t have enough energy to tell him off. “Hey Akaashi, did you see me, I ran like whoosh like lightning.” Bokuto began talking animatedly to whoever who would listen - and it was only Akaashi. The team had a short rest at the top before jogging down slowly, taking careful measures because none of them wanted to trip or lose their balance and tumble down ungracefully._

 

_However, because Bokuto assumed that his laces would magically tie themselves together, decided to go down the hill with them flying about and ended up crashing into Akaashi. “What the heck-” Akaashi began but he was pulled down by his captain and the duo ended up tumbling down the hill together, rolling on top of each other. Akaashi had his eyes closed throughout the entirety of the fall and only opened them when all movement came to a standstill._

 

 _He opened his eyes to see that Bokuto still had his eyes shut. By this point inside, Akaashi was fuming but at the same time, glad that it happened. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the fall - although he didn’t particularly enjoy the bruises that came after.  His expression on the outside, however, said otherwise. “Bokuto-san.” he shook the captain who reluctantly opened his golden eyes. “I’d like to apologise for whatever I say next.” Akaashi cleared his throat before continuing. “You’re such an idiot Bokuto-san why would you ever think it was a safe idea to run down a hill with your laces_ **_untied_ ** _?”_

 

_Bokuto coughed and blinked for a second, processing Akaashi’s words. “I just- I wasn’t thinking,” he answered truthfully. The two stared at each other for a long time until their teammates grew uncomfortable watching the duo have a staring contest._

 

_“Thank God you’re not hurt,” Akaashi whispered, hugging him tightly. Bokuto’s arms were awkwardly lying on the ground and he wrapped them around his setter’s body. “Don’t ever do something that stupid ever again.”_

 

Akaashi could still remember the warmth of Bokuto’s body pressed against his, and oh - how he craved for his touch again. His chest tightened and all Akaashi could think about was how he missed that stupid owl. He would do anything just to have a moment like that again. He managed to leave the academy’s compound quickly and headed back into the town where hopefully, no memories would be triggered. They rarely spent time in town together, albeit being close friends. It had always revolved around volleyball and the only time they were ever in town together would probably be for a festival of sorts or purchasing volleyball gear.

 

His stomach rumbled, reminding him of the lack of an important meal. There were surprisingly many coffee shops within the area and Akaashi hurriedly enter the first one he spotted, grateful for the warmth inside. The smell of roasting coffee and hot chocolate filled the air along with freshly baked cakes and eateries. He quickly placed an order for a hot chocolate and a sandwich before finding an empty booth to wallow in self-pity and regret.

 

Gently blowing away the swirls of smoke on his hot chocolate, his mind brought him back to the time where Bokuto had forgotten to bring the keys to the gym when they wanted to have an early practice and the other members only arrived at seven. Needless to say, it was a chilly morning where they both sat perched outside the gym, sipping on the hot chocolate that his mother had passed it to him before he left.

 

_“Keiji-kun!” his mother called him. In the midst of tying his shoelaces, he was surprised to see his mother up as early as he was. “I made some hot chocolate last night for your sister, do you want to bring some to school today?”_

 

_Akaashi, who was never able to turn down an offer for such a drink, graciously accepted the thermos from his mother. Now he was sitting side by side with an idiot of a best friend sipping it, savouring the warmth of the drink on this particularly crisp morning. “Say Akaashi, this is really good. What sort of mix does your mother use?”_

 

_“She melts the actual chocolate and adds milk to it,” Akaashi answered, licking his lips._

 

_The duo sat in silence, watching the sun rise slowly over the hills and Akaashi silently thanking the gods for such an opportunity like this._

 

It wasn’t a particularly painful flashback, but a flashback nonetheless. He stirred his hot chocolate slowly, letting the milky foam group around his stirrer, the taste of the chocolate suddenly bitter in his mouth. He forced the drink down and wiped his lips with the ends of his jacket, hurrying out of the coffee shop as quickly as possible. All these flashbacks were triggered by simple activities that he and Bokuto used to do, and he needed to return back to his apartment to shut them all out. There can only be enough memories that one could handle in a day.

 

His apartment was cold, and uninviting by the time he arrived. The sun had come and gone, taking its warmth away leaving his home as barren and empty. There was a time where the apartment wasn’t inhabited by one person, but by the two of them. It was during university where the duo had decided to live together with Bokuto needing somewhere to crash besides the campus dorms and Akaashi just starting university. When Bokuto was around, the apartment was livelier. Wherever Bokuto went, there was this unmistakable glowing aura around him that immediately brought life to anything around him.

 

The invitation dropped out of his jacket pocket, in a crumpled ball onto the floor. Akaashi plopped himself on the sofa that was too big for one person, unfolding the invitation slowly. The wedding was to be held in two weeks time which gave him plenty of time to compose himself. Akaashi sighed, the feeling of preparing for something reminding him of the time he had to mentally and physically prepare Bokuto for his graduation.

 

_“Eh, Akaashi. You know I’m graduating tomorrow right?” Bokuto reminded him, staring up at the empty sky where only a few specks of stars could be spotted. Akaashi nodded._

 

_“Yes Bokuto-san.” he answered._

 

_“Will.. Will you miss me?” Bokuto asked, rolling over to stare into Akaashi’s eyes. His golden eyes bored into Akaashi’s bluey-green ones, widening in question._

 

_“Of course Bokuto-san.” Akaashi answered truthfully, his voice faltering slightly. He knew that eventually one of them would give in and eventually start crying. How could they not? It was Bokuto’s last night as a high school student, his last night in Fukurodani, his last game playing as the ace of Fukurodani. His last everything. It was also Akaashi’s last game playing as a setter to Bokuto. He thought about Bokuto’s future volleyball team - would they be able to handle Bokuto’s mood swings the way he did? Would they be able to pinpoint each of his weaknesses and help him improve? Would they treat him the same way he treated Bokuto?_

 

_It only took two seconds for their voices to crack. “Bokuto-san.”_

 

_“Akaa..shi.”_

 

   It also took two seconds for Akaashi’s voice to crack again as he called out for his best friend. “ _Bokuto-san_.” he whispered, his voice loud in the silence of his apartment.

 

_I should’ve told you that night._

_I should’ve told you that night._

_I should’ve told you that night._

 

_I’m such an idiot._

 

~

 

   The day of the reception came sooner than he had expected. He had grew accustomed to waking up to that obnoxious cream card staring back at him. A dapper black and white tux hung at the front of his closet, carefully ironed and crease free. He had ironed that tux over and over again, until there was barely a single crinkle in the suit. Akaashi had always liked arriving for appointments early, and this was one that he knew that he had to arrive early for. Staring back at his reflection in his gigantic mirror that they had not given any thought to before buying, he felt a sense of emptiness staring back at him. He had cleaned up days prior the wedding - getting proper amounts of sleep, holding off alcohol and making sure he looked as if he had his shit together - but who was Akaashi kidding with all this?

 

   He sprayed his neck with his favourite cologne and picked up the wedding gift for the happy couple. It took him five times to get the wrapping right, as his hands shook as he tried to even cut the paper. It had been wrapped in a crisp cream-coloured wrapping paper with golden sakura decals and completed with a simple silver coloured ribbon. Akaashi knew how much Bokuto was an olfactory person and decided to purchase a set of male and female perfumes. He had also prepared a _goshugi_ with the notes clean and new enclosed within a decorated envelope. Glancing at the watch on his wrist, Akaashi swore at the time before hurrying down to hail a taxi as soon as possible.

 

   Inside the church, Akaashi began fiddling with the collar of his tuxedo, immediately regretting wearing a particularly warm one in June. Most of the guests were dressed similarly to him and shuffled about trying to get themselves cooled. He had the honour of sitting in front where Bokuto’s parents were and they complimented him on how particularly dashing he looked on this day and how proud they were of their son. “She’s very beautiful.” Bokuto’s mother told Akaashi, patting his back and treating him as if he was her son as well. As Bokuto’s parents began conversing with each other, Akaashi craned his neck to see if there was anyone from high school that was here on this fine, grand day.

 

   Suddenly, the chair next to him gave a groan and someone had slapped Akaashi’s thigh, a little too friendly for someone of Bokuto’s family. Akaashi turned his head to see the infamous Nekoma captain grinning. “Kuroo-san.” Akaashi greeted. Kuroo plopped next to him, running his hands through his reputable defying gravity hair. Kuroo hadn’t changed much from high school - he still had that shit-eating grin permanently plastered on his face, however, he did gain more muscle mass over time.

 

   “Seems like yesterday where we were joking about how Bokuto would never have a wife.” Kuroo reminisced. “And here we are, at his wedding.”

 

   Akaashi nodded in politeness and the conversation turned into a small catching up session between the two ex-volleyball players. There were some occasional lulls in the conversation for Akaashi was never as close to Kuroo as Bokuto was but they were good friends nonetheless. “Where’s Kenma?” Akaashi asked after noticing that the particular blonde wasn’t with Kuroo.

 

   Kuroo scratched the back of his head. “Ahh, he has some family thing,” he answered vaguely. Kuroo was unable to continue as the duo finally spotted Bokuto standing at the altar with the priest in the middle. Akaashi felt the wind knocked out of as he stared at Bokuto, all dressed up in a white suit. In their many years of friendship together, Akaashi had never seen Bokuto in a suit.

 

   “ _Too formal._ ” Bokuto would often scoff and dress in something that could pull off as formal.

 

   And now here he was, dressed in a suit. His ever silver black hair still stood up the same way as they did in high school, a wild contrast to his suit. He had definitely shaped up over the years and boy did he look good. How could one human be so… beautiful? If you were to ask Akaashi to define Bokuto, beautiful was never a term that ever popped in his mind. Handsome? Sure, he would agree to that. Dishevelled? All the time. But beautiful? He had never considered Bokuto as someone that was beautiful, attractive maybe, but never beautiful. He looked like a snowy owl that emerged from tundra regions.

 

   He could tell that Bokuto was a nervous mess as he was playing with his fingers, and wanted to be there by his side, slapping his back and telling him everything would be alright - but it seemed that there were already a few there and he had to get in line. Bokuto was on the edge, tiptoeing in search of someone. For a moment, Akaashi had forgotten that he was at a wedding and hoped that Bokuto would be looking for him - but the reality of the wedding came crashing down on him and Akaashi shook his head, removing any thoughts that he had prior the realisation.

 

   The oh so common tune of the bridal’s march began and everyone turned their heads to the bride that was about to walk down the aisle. Bokuto’s mother was right, she was indeed stunning. Akaashi remembered the first time Bokuto introduced her to Akaashi - he thought they would never last. For one, she seemed too out of his league with her being a person of science and him just volleyball, but they still clicked despite all that. He started returning to their apartment less and less, spending more time with her. Their joint trainings with Fukurodani were forgotten and eventually, Akaashi too gave up playing volleyball with Fukurodani because what was the point of playing anymore? Eventually, Bokuto made the decision to move in together with his girlfriend.

 

    _“You’d understand right man? I know bros come first but man, I love her so.”_

 

   Akaashi clenched his fist at that thought _. I should’ve asked him to stay. I should’ve. I could’ve._

 

    **_But I didn’t._ **

 

   Now he watched as she floated down the aisle, her dress stunningly clinging to her body and her hair done up in a fancy updo that he was positive Bokuto had requested. She was beautiful. And she was his.

   The reading of the marriage vows began and Akaashi noticed the ever so bubbling excitement within Bokuto as he played a small game of footsie with his soon to be wife. The two were just so happy together. He was happy together, once. The five words that Akaashi had dreaded to hear soon came and Akaashi watched as Bokuto gently lifted the veil to his wife, smiling as he did so, no denying the amount of love he had in his eyes. Bokuto leaned in as Akaashi turned away. His mind kept taunting him with flashes of what he could have had if he said something that night.

 

_why can't it be me?_

_why can't it be me instead of her?_

_i wish that it could be like that_

_why can’t it be like that?_

 

   The church ceremony ended with his bride tossing the bouquet over to a group of excited young ladies. It so happened that Akaashi happened to be walking past the group when the bouquet landed in his hands. Groans of disappointment came from the ladies and Bokuto giggled with his wife. “You better invite me to your wedding Akaashi!” Bokuto chortled walking up to Akaashi to give him a pat on his back. “Hey man, I didn’t get to talk to you at all. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

 

   “It has,” Akaashi mumbled quietly, passing the bouquet to a wandering little girl who jumped with glee. An awkward silence fell over the two- a rarity as Bokuto always had something to say. “How’s life recently?” Akaashi asked.

 

   Bokuto broke into a brisk walk, scratching the back of his head and loosening his tie. “It’s been pretty stressful. Haya’s been stressing over the wedding, we rarely have time to loosen up and have some fun. But I’m glad that one-half of it is over, her parents were insane during rehearsal.” Bokuto began to animatedly talk about the rehearsals and all the planning prior the wedding, using expressive hand gestures and incomprehensible phrases such as _fwoosh_ and _whoop_ , as if he was describing a volleyball match. Akaashi listened with his fullest attention, suddenly aware of how much he had missed listening to Bokuto talk - even if it was just about something boring. He had missed his voice, the only time he ever heard him talk was through the phone but that still wasn’t enough.

 

The two had found themselves walking to an area of shrubbery behind the church. It had been well maintained and there were plenty of flowers in full bloom as well, making it perfect for wedding photographers. “Hey look Akaashi! It’s a camphor tree, remember how we got a volleyball stuck up there?” Bokuto pointed out excitedly to a tree in the distance.

 

“I’m surprised you even know what a camphor tree is,” Akaashi replied dryly as he would in high school.

 

Bokuto pouted and stomped his feet lightly. “Akaashi.” he dragged his name, each syllable rolling off his tongue like syrup. Akaashi froze for a second, forgetting the way Bokuto called him and how much it made him blush. “Akaashi?”

 

Akaashi blinked quickly. “What?”

 

“You were spacing out, you alright bro?”

 

“Yeah, something on my mind,” Akaashi answered truthfully, staring off into the distance.

 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

 

“Bokuto-san, nobody says that anymore.” Akaashi teased. “Ah, it’s nothing really.”

 

Bokuto raised his eyebrow, crossing his arms at his ex-setter. “You sure about that Akaashi? I may not be as perceptive as you, but I sure know when you look a little down.”

 

“Do I?” Akaashi responded, keeping his face as straight as possible. Bokuto nodded. “Well, there has been something, but I don’t think I should burden a married man with plights of a single man’s life.”

 

Bokuto groaned and patted Akaashi’s back. “Don’t worry man, you’ll find your someone. You even caught the bouquet, so the gods have definitely found one for you.”

 

“But what if I think the someone I am supposed to have, is someone I can never have?” Akaashi queried, staring up at the sky that bore many white fluffy clouds today.

 

“That’s just life, I suppose.” Bokuto shrugged in response.

 

The two fell into another awkward silence, kicking at the ground and unable to find another conversation filler. Bokuto stared at the watch on his hand and his eyes widened. “Crap, I think I should be heading back. It’s good catching up with you Akaashi.” Bokuto began walking away quickly but before he was able to Akaashi grabbed his wrist. “What’s -”

 

Without warning, Akaashi pressed his lips against Bokuto’s. They were soft and gentle, slightly chapped but Akaashi couldn’t care less. The taste of a berry lipgloss, presumably his wife’s were on both their lips but Akaashi couldn’t care. Euphoria was the only sense that he could feel and it had taken over his entire mind. His sense all acted on impulse, pulling Bokuto closer against his chest, their bodies pressed fervently against each other. There was only one thing on Akaashi’s mind: Bokuto.

 

But it was Bokuto who pulled away, staring in disbelief at Akaashi, whom he thought was his best friend. There were tears in Bokuto’s eyes, and for the first time, Akaashi was unsure what those tears meant. As realisation began to set in Akaashi’s mind, he thought back on his actions that had all acted on impulse. “You had all those years, Akaashi. _Eleven_ years.” Bokuto began, his voice straining on the eleven. “Why now? Why _now_ Akaashi?” he demanded, tears spilling from his eyes, his voice a mix of anger, confusion, shock and a twinge of sadness.

 

“Because I’m an idiot that’s why!” Akaashi shouted back, not caring that they were in a public place. “I am such an idiot. I’m sorry Bokuto-san.” he apologised, staring at his best friend’s golden eyes now rimmed with tears. He stared at them for a long time before Bokuto pulled him into an embrace. Akaashi finally gave into his tears, allowing them to spill over Bokuto’s suit before realising that was the same suit he probably had to wear at the dinner reception later. But as he pulled away, Bokuto held on tighter.

 

“If we are ever given another life to live, I promise Bokuto-san, I will make you stay. _I love you_. I love you so much, and that’s all I have to say.” Akaashi whispered, his voice already cracking as he forced out the I love you.

 

“I love you too Akaashi.” Bokuto murmured, patting his best friend’s back, rubbing circles, just the way to comfort him. The two stayed in an embrace for what seemed like ages before pulling away, both their faces smudged and patchy, eyes tear stained and red. Akaashi wiped his tears with the ends of his jacket, before offering a handkerchief to Bokuto. He’s damaged the suit enough.

 

“Congratulations on the wedding.” Akaashi patted Bokuto’s shoulder, his voice on the verge of cracking again but he kept himself composed. He wiped a stray tear with his finger as Bokuto nodded in understanding. He had to get over it, _eventually_. Walking away from Bokuto, he tried to keep his chin up high, only allowing his true emotions to reveal themselves in the comforts of his home. A bittersweet taste lingered on both their tongues, as they parted from each other into new walks of life - a bittersweet taste that was inexplicably addictive.

 

That night, during the reception, Bokuto kept his eyes out for his best friend. But when he was greeted with a shake of a head from Kuroo, Bokuto nodded in understanding, sipping from his champagne glass and returning to his seat, his wife’s hands wrapped tightly around his.

 

_in another life._

 

**Author's Note:**

> u thought it was a letter? sike. i’m sorry.


End file.
